Strength in Solitude

UNBELIEVABLE! IDIOTS!! All you had to do was follow my instructions! One simple rule and you fools couldn't do it! Instead you sabotaged us all! The other schools were practically laughing at us!

We have practically no chance of even making third place now. MORONS! I knew you'd screw it up!!

Quite a pleasant, though ultimately expected surprise, this note that I found on my bed this evening was. Of course they couldn't get around selecting contestants, or... "Einhar" for this contest without choosing me. They would have been cursing themselves in the foot.

Yet I also found a letter on Gilderoy's bed as well. I have no idea what they were thinking there.

This morning I received a post from my mother containing a book. A Potions book. While it's not as up-to-date as the most recent editions, I've read just about all of it and it contains subjects not taught about in the current curriculum.

In other words, it's a Dark Arts book. My very own...

This... couldn't have happened at a better time.


( Owl to Eileen Prince )

Perhaps it's...

... this is quite odd to write about, but there is an odour in this store. It's strange, somewhat pungent and sweet. It's bothersome. And I have no idea where it's coming from.

...

Oops! Well the cat's out of the cauldron now, isn't it? I suppose time-travel is out of the question, thank you very much, Lovegood. I'll have to find another way to finish off Black and Potter.

And it was such an intriguing idea too. Then again, perhaps it can still be done. I already have a chair, the device is almost done. What I need now is an umbrella...

( Private )


Well how gracious it is of "overbearing" Evans (That has rather a nice ring to it) to once again grace us with her presence. I was hoping that she had lost her journal...or had fallen off a cliff.

Shall I answer you simply, then, Evans? Nobody cares about your damn mutt.

Apparently there was another killing earlier today, a murder. An entire family was wiped out, and that Dark Mark was seen over the house for blocks. The family was partially Muggleborn, from what I understand. A mixed family. See what they get?

Is it senseless, or is there a method to the madness?

In any case, I might have an opportunity to work at a shoppe with my mother starting Monday. This store has rather interesting clientele and merchandise, so I am looking forward to it. As well as to get out of that house.

Perhaps now it is safe to-

I eagerly await my O.W.L. results. In the meantime I intend to continue expanding my knowledge. Simply because I am not allowed to cast magic now does not mean magic must be lost to me.

But perhaps this is beyond the rest of you.

( Warded Private )

( Private )

The Charms O.W.L. exam could best be described as simple at it's most difficult.

Next is Defense, and I anticipate no problems. I'll make them respect me yet.

So, it seems that it's true after-all. A Costume ball. Perhaps they will crown Potter there as well. It seems that they cannot worship him enough. Bastard

It is still a stupid idea. Fortunately it isn't mandatory.

Then again, if I were in costume, nobody would know I went, would they....?

The last time I wrote my intimate thoughts on this stupid journal...

It's been quite dull around here lately. I suppose I shouldn't complain. Dull is a lovely alternative to what is happening outside Hogwarts, if you read the papers. These are troubled times, with the non-stop torturing and kidnapping and killing. Just the other day a man was put under the Imperius Curse and kill his entire family. What kind of mind conceives of such a plan? It was brutal...and rather clever

The man had married a Muggle woman. Hmm.

Is that the kind of fate that awaits me? Is there any way to change it?

Useless...

It's been so quiet lately... I almost hate to jinx it by writing in this journal. And yet, it's so compelling I consistently find it difficult to ignore.

Potions is only one facet of the being of a powerful wizard, and yet it is important and all encompassing. With a potion you can turn a man into a god, or into something more pathetic than Muggle. They're simply amazing. Mercurial, always changing, powerful. Like the Dark Arts.

Those of you who are going to begin writing here whinging about how evil the Dark Arts are and how I shouldn't be talking about them or whatnot, do me a favour: stuff it. I don't want to hear it and I don't care what you think.

You fear the Dark Arts because you're ignorant of them. You fear like you're stupid, like monkeys afraid of fire or... or Muggles afraid of magic.

You're all the same.

I promised myself I would say something positive for once...

Slytherin, best of luck with your game on Saturday. It shouldn't be a problem for you. Hufflepuff is imploding from within, and with their constant bickering and in-fighting, the question is not of your victory, but by the margin of. Your win is almost assured. Still Alecto, Regulus, Rabastan, put in the necessary minimum effort. I don't foresee any problems.

There. That will do.

( Owl to Anderson Lovegood )

You people are so tiresome.

There is little to write about. I wish I were out of school. Then again, what would I be doing? The career counseling was quite interesting, and it did make me think of possibilities I otherwise would've ignored. Quite frankly, I am much more interested in immersing myself in what makes a wizard a wizard than the trivial pursuits the rest of you find so fitting.

The ignorance around here is suffocating!

Perhaps...

Yes... an idea. But I cannot believe I am even considering this...

Ah the peace. The quiet. I've gotten more work done in this week than I have in the past two months. Fantastic.

What's in the Prophet today?

Another kidnapping. Ho hum.

Oh, somebody vandalised Alasdair Maddock's house. Again. I'm not one for sports, but one would think they would keep their Mugglish obsessions off the Quidditch pitch.

Madam Primpernelle's salon is still looking for a Junior Potions Mixer. Sounds like a joke, but it pays well. If I would be able to work in the back of the shop, it could be a good Summer distraction. I'll send an application before the end of the day. Of course, if I actually have to work in the open with those idiots distracting me and asking me what I'm doing, then I'm not going to bother.

So, the Crouches had an Easter social, did they? Hmph. Sounds like a waste of time, phony pleasantries, smiles, and discussions. Bland social-setting food. An utter waste of time, but you idiots need something to do to keep your brains from leaking out of your ears.

The Fiendishly Difficult Crossword was completed in fifteen minutes. The Prophet really must put in a little more effort in these. They're far too easy.


Bah. Enough. Time for a nap.

Lovegood, if you truly seek a further career in investigative journalism, I would reconsider. Or at least, perhaps consider a career in agriculture. Your articles, I'm sure, make a damn good fertilizer.

I'm sick of these meetings, these duels... these students. I'm sick of this school. I'm sick of those who respect those who can hit a ball with a bat or those who can catch a snitch more than those who are obviously their intellectual betters. I'm sick of the idolising sycophants who adore those gits from Gryffindor. I'm tired of those who worship only what they can see, what is skin-deep.

In short, I am tired of you. I that most of you make the right choice and leave for the holidays, so I can finally have some peace in this cage

Thank goodness this month is almost over, as is this bloody tournament. Spring will be upon us soon. This usually means new things. Hm...

So, the final for the tournament has been decided. Very interesting. I must admit, I did not see this match-up coming, I did not even fathom it. I suppose it will make for an interesting duel. Still, I will be glad when the tournament is over. Interesting though it has been, I fear it's been draining too much from the collective consciousness of the student body. There are more important things to worry about- at least for most students. O.W.L.s, for instance.

As the days become warmer, I've been noticing more and more the strange behavior of that whomping willow. What an absolutely puzzling tree, and what an odd place to plant it. I know our Headmaster is...eccentric... but...

Well, these are perhaps thoughts for another day.

I seem to have recovered, at least well enough to have been discharged from the hospital wing. I do not feel so unwell at all. I believe I could have recovered faster if the nurse had allowed me to work on the curative potion I had dreamt up as I had asked, but that's the way it is in this school. Imagination continues to be stifled.

Ah well. What's done is done.

Narcissa, happy birthday. I am sorry to have missed it.

One wonders when the dueling will resume. Perhaps I will start attending them again after-all. Potter against Remus, both friends. Will we see a repeat of the debacle that was Potter/Black?

But what intrigues me most is Harper against Crouch Jr., knowing their history. No, I'd rather not miss that.